


The Dream

by Gamma_Orionis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: sortinghatdrabs, Dark, Drama, Gen, Torture, Violence, Wordcount: 500-1000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:12:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gamma_Orionis/pseuds/Gamma_Orionis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luna Lovegood was dozing against the wall of the Malfoy's cellar when Bellatrix came in. Written for Week #179 at sortinghatdrabs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Week #179 at sortinghatdrabs, where it took first place for the week :D
> 
> The challenge was to write a fic featuring Bellatrix and Luna, with a painting by Picasso as a prompt. I chose the painting ["The Dream"](http://www.pablopicasso.org/images/paintings/the-dream.jpg)

Luna Lovegood was dozing against the wall of the Malfoy's cellar when Bellatrix came in. She had been sent to break her – just a little torture, nothing she hadn't done a dozen times before, "child's play", as it were. She had expected Lovegood to be pacing the dungeon, or cowering in a corner, but she was curled easily against a wall in the centre of the dungeon, and she was fast asleep.

The girl must have been mad to sleep so easily in such a terrible place. Perhaps the things that Draco had said were true. Draco had warned Bellatrix that Luna was out of her mind, but Bellatrix had heard the same description applied to herself so often that she had learned not to trust it.

But this girl, this Lovegood leaned against the wall with her head lolling easily to the side, her hands in her lap, and her face peaceful as death.

Bellatrix edged closer until she stood over her, and still the girl did not move, except the steady rise and fall of her chest. She should at least have been aware of her presence, Bellatrix thought, with a little flicker of annoyance. She could not remember a time when she could not make people cringe in their sleep: Rodolphus did; her sisters always had; even the Dark Lord seemed aware when she looked at him while he slept. The girl should have the sense to be afraid.

Bellatrix raised her wand – a hex thrown on her would bring her to her senses; a hex would teach her to fear her superiors – but still Lovegood was unmoving, and Bellatrix found herself frozen, wand raised, unable to cast a spell. It was uncanny, how oblivious she seemed. Bellatrix would have considered that she had died, were it not for her breathing, still steady, unchanged.

"Wake up," Bellatrix said, and then, louder, "Wake up!" She leaned down and gripped Lovegood by her shoulders and shook her back and forth. Her head fell backwards, and for all that Bellatrix shook her, she remained limp.

She had to be pretending. No one could sleep like that.

Bellatrix pulled on the string around her neck, dragging it backwards so it pressed against her windpipe. The girl's breathing became shallower, but it did not speed, nor did she twist away as every human instinct dictated that she should have. A Cruciatus curse did not wake her either, and at last, Bellatrix threw her flat upon the ground and kicked her hard in her side.

"You can't sleep forever, little girl," she told her. "You'll have to wake up and face us eventually."

She stormed out then, fuming at the prisoner, and at herself for allowing herself to become so agitated (the Dark Lord would never have worked himself into such a state), and only when she was gone did Luna open her eyes, though they were swelling now from the attacks and it would have been easier to keep them closed.

Luna heaved herself back up against the wall, slowly, every movement hurting some part of her that Bellatrix had hit, and closed her eyes again.

Bellatrix had said that she couldn't sleep forever, that eventually, she'd have to face them.

Bellatrix didn't know Luna.

Pretending not to be hurt by anything was what Luna had done since she was eleven. It was second nature to her. The Death Eaters could not have picked a more difficult prisoner.

She let her head fall back again, and practiced going limp for the next time that Bellatrix came into the dungeon.

)O(

_Fin_


End file.
